nineteenth century where a farmer's children had made up his sandwiches with what they thought was parsley but was hemlock. The top of the plant is just as poisonous as the root. He died the same way as Phyllis. No convulsions, no vomiting, just slow paralysis.'
'How do you know this?'
'We've all been looking up hemlock poisoning on our computers.'
'Is there any hope,' asked Agatha, 'that Phyllis might have made the mistake herself?'
'Won't do. If that were the case, we'd all have been poisoned.'
'Are the rest of them quite happy with the idea of my investigating the murder?'
'Yes, they've all come round, except Henry, who thinks it's all a waste of money.'
'You say you have your own money. Couldn't you have made Bert give up the brickworks?'
'He was just about to. He wouldn't do it before because he feared his mother's contempt.'
'Does your father still have the farm?'
'No, he died. Terrible accident. He climbed up the grain silo for some reason and fell in. He was smothered in the grain. He left us all a great deal of money. He had invested well and he was a bit of a miser.'
Agatha's brain was beginning to whirl with all this information. She had a nasty little picture of Alison climbing up the silo after her father and shoving him in.
'Isn't it odd?' said Alison. 'These days the world is full of therapy-speak and you hear people on television saying that they come from a dysfunctional family. What is a functional one? I wonder. Does it exist?'
'I'm in the wrong line of business to tell you that,' said Agatha.
Toni, mindful of Mrs Freedman's earlier instructions, went to the animal refuge and located all the missing animals except one cat.
As she did not have transport, she thought of phoning up the owners and telling them to call at the refuge. She phoned Mrs Freedman. 'Don't do that, dear,' said Mrs Freedman. 'You'll make it look too easy. You wait there and I'll be round with my car.'
To Toni's relief, Mrs Freedman turned up in a Land Rover. They borrowed carrying cases from the refuge, bore the animals off to the office and phoned the delighted owners.
When the last one had gone, Mrs Freedman said to Toni, 'You're looking a bit peaky. Why don't you run along to your flat and have a nice lie-down.'
Toni retreated to her flat. She made herself a light lunch and then slept for two hours and awoke feeling much refreshed but also restless. Her friends must be wondering where she had got to. Since joining the agency, she had not seen any of them, partly because she had been busy and partly out of fear that her brother might track her down if he learned where she was. Would her name be in the newspapers? It would have been too late for the attack on her to be reported in that day's newspapers. But what about tomorrow? Then she relaxed. They would probably just say that a man had been charged with attempted rape. Her name would not be mentioned until the court case came up. Doris Crampton opened her cottage door to see who had knocked. An inoffensive elderly man stood on the doorstep.
'I am Phil Marshall,' said Phil politely. 'I am helping to investigate the murder of Mrs Tamworthy.'
'Are you police?'
'No. Private detective.'
Doris made as if to close the door. But Phil looked so unthreatening with his white hair ruffled by the breeze and Doris had a longing to gossip.
'Come in,' she said, 'but I can't really tell you anything.'
Phil followed her into the cottage parlour. 'You have a nice home here,' he said.
'For how long?' demanded Doris.
'Why do you ask?'
'Because we pay rent to the manor, see. When the whole place is sold, the new owner might turf us out. I'll say one thing for Mrs Tamworthy, she never raised the rents. That's why we was all so upset when we heard she was planning to sell. It weren't really nothing to do with the building plot.'
'Dear me. It must all be very worrying for you,' said Phil.
'Sit down,' said Doris. Phil sat down in an armchair beside the fireplace and Doris took the seat opposite him.
'I find it surprising that Mrs Tamworthy didn't raise the rents,' commented Phil. 'From what I've heard about her, she seems to have been a hardnosed businesswoman.'
'She was that. But you know, sir, I don't think she did it out o' kindness. Kept reminding all of us how generous she was and there was always at the back of her voice and in her eyes a sort of threat. We was all frightened to cross her. I think she liked her bit o' power. But no one in the village would have harmed her. I mean getting rid of her would mean her children taking over and there would be nothing to stop them raising the rents or selling the place.'
'But she was going to sell anyway,' Phil pointed out.
'We kept hoping she'd come round. See, she liked upsetting people.'
'To get to the murder,' said Phil. 'Did she always make that salad herself?'
'Right proud of it, she were. There's a big kitchen garden up at the manor and she'd go herself to get the vegetables. There's a gurt big shed at the end where the picked fruit and vegetables are stored.'
'There is a gardener, of course?'
'Yes, that's Fred Instick. He's getting on and the work's hard. He kept asking for an undergardener but she wouldn't listen to him. Told him to get Jill, the groom, to help. Jill did it sometimes because she was sorry for Fred but usually pointed out she had her hands full with the horses. He'll be worried about his house, now. Don't think anyone now'll want to keep on an old gardener.'
'I'd like to meet him. Where is his cottage?'
'It's at the back of the stables.'
Said Phil, 'You say Mrs Tamworthy was very proud of her salad and yet she did not serve it at dinner.'
'No, sir, always at high tea. She said it were right good for her bowels.'
'How did she get on with her children?'
'They didn't come round much. Just on her birthday and Christmas. 'Cept for Jimmy. He was round a lot.'
'It's a big house. Didn't he live with her?'
'No, poor sod lived above the shop. She charged him rent, too.'
Phil looked shocked. 'I'm really not surprised someone has murdered her.'
Doris smiled for the first time. 'Let me get you some tea, sir.'
Fran had agreed to be interviewed by Agatha. She sat in front of Agatha, nervously plucking at her skirt.
'At first,' said Fran, 'we were really all against you trying to find out who murdered Mother. But then the police began to make each one of us feel guilty. Something's got to be done. Jimmy's going ahead putting the shop up for sale. It's too early. None of us is going to get a good price with the suspicion of murder hanging over our heads. Besides, it's just a little shop, no post office counter. The villagers go on grumbling about keeping the old ways but most of them shop at the supermarkets. The ones who go to Jimmy get their groceries on tick and then he has the awful job of making sure they pay their bills.'
'Was your mother--how can I put this--was she ever very maternal?'
'Not that I can remember. Dad adored us. We had marvellous Christmases when we were small. It was only after he died that Mother--well--
'Was Jimmy always destined to be a shopkeeper?'
'No, he was working in computers as a website developer, a firm in Mircester. The firm went bust just after Dad died. He was looking around for another job when Mother bulldozed him into running the shop.'
'The shop did not belong to the estate?'
'No, she bought it for him and gave it to him as a Christmas present. You should have seen his face. I thought he was about to cry.'
'And Bert?'
'Well, Dad had taken him into the business and he was happy working with him.'
